Jan 072009
 

Most people head south for the winter. They flee the cold bitter wind and take refuge on sunny beaches and humid climates. Catalina wasn’t like most people. For her vacation she had come here, to the cold dark woods of Massachusetts at the foot of the Appalachian trail. The leaves had long ago fallen and the sky wrapped everything in life sucking gray but to Catalina,there was no more beautiful place on earth during the winter.

Catalina saw things a bit differently from most people. She was a Voluptumancer, and the secrets of the sexual world were an open book to her. The wind was cold but she didn’t wear a coat. Her thin white blouse barely covered her large brown breasts but she never shivered. Last night she had slept with a truck driver and she used her magic to keep his hairy warmth with her. A blue skirt fell around her long legs but the wind couldn’t chill legs that could still feel the heat of a thrusting sweating man. The only thing she allowed the wind to touch was her long black hair which whipped behind her. The hungry fingers of winter played with her hair, spreading and fanning it like a halo around her.

She walked carefully through the woods and looked for the signs. Beer cans and cigarette butts lined the outer circle. Catalina pressed inward to the second circle of discarded blankets and left behind hats. After a mile, she found the secret makeout places. Condoms and the occasional lost pair of panties marked where young lovers could not contain themselves any further. She sighed at the litter but smiled at the hundreds of encounters that had taken place here.

“They know it in their groins,” she said to the wind, “even if they don’t know it in their heads. They can’t help themselves. They just think this is where people go to make out.”

The wind answered her by blowing harder.

Catalina found a tree low enough for her to climb. The hard bark scratched her skin like tiny bites. She sat on the branch and lifted her skirt. Her fingers toyed with the thick bush between her legs. The energy of the area was starting to affect her and she knew that meant it would happen soon.

The first shape pulled free of a tree in front of Catalina. The body was green and the lines were hard but there was no mistaking the femininity of the shape of her hips. Curves on the chest may have resembled breasts but the cleft between the legs was unmistakable. The shape slid away from the tree and walked to a near by tree.

Knock, knock, knock, the shape tapped on the tree.

A new shape pulled free from the knocked tree. This shape was definitely male as he sported a branch between his legs that would make a horse jealous. The two shapes embraced, almost melding together into one before breaking apart. They separated reluctantly and Catalina was touched by the way their fingers were the last to let go. She admired their discipline as they walked away to knock on more trees.

Knock, knock, knock, and other shapes came loose from their trees. Faceless female shapes with long leaves for hair and round breasts that will never give milk danced along side faceless male shapes with broad tree trunk shoulders and mighty erect shafts of wood pointing before them.

The shapes had many names throughout history. The Greeks called them Dryads. The Japanese knew them as Kodamas. Catalina and the other Voluptumancers called them the Green Lovers for they had no desire other than to touch, feel and embrace.

When there were over a hundred of them, they began to dance. They danced slowly, moving with the steady assurance that time was meaningless to the forest. They formed lines that swirled in and out of each others lines. They touched each other; hands sliding over hands, erect members sliding over curvy asses and faceless heads exchanging kisses. The forest echoed with the sound of wood bumping against wood.

Above them, Catalina watched. Her fingers stroked her sex as she watched the intimacies being exchanged. She gasped as she watched the dancers slowly break away from the mass of the dance for more personal dances with single partners. She stroked faster as she watched the lines disintegrate into smaller couplings. Catalina fingered her clitoris as she watched wood bury itself into wood.

When Catalina first heard of the Green Lovers, she had expected their orgies to take place in the Spring. It was her mother who taught her better. The first thaw of Spring is worth celebrating with sex, but it is the cold loneliness of Winter that brings forth the Green Lovers. Starving for warmth, certain ancient trees have the power to reach out to one another. The Green Lovers reassure each other that they are not alone. They comfort each other in the way that Life always finds comfort. They make love.

Catalina watched. In front of her, a female shape climbed on top of a male shape and impaled herself. To the side, two shapes rolled in the dirt, both so eager that neither could stay on top for long. To the other side, one shape bent over to receive the long hard member of another. At Catalina’s own tree, a male shape pinned a female shape to the tree and entered her. Catalina could feel the tree shake from every powerful thrust, encouraging her own fingers to go deeper and harder.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, Catalina’s fingers moved faster. The orgy continued on the ground below her. The bodies copulated, separated and took on new partners. Catalina was tempted to join them but she held back. The Green Lovers would welcome another warm body but history was filled with legends of Green Lovers who do not easily let their human lovers go. Catalina had no desire to spend a dozen years inside a tree.

That was okay. Catalina was content to watch. After a year of manipulating sexual energy and harnessing the tension that people lived with daily, Catalina loved to come out to this forest and watch love making in it’s simplest form. Here a kiss is exchanged for another kiss. Here a body thrusts into another body for the simultaneous need of each other. Here Catalina remembered what it was like to desire and have it returned selflessly.

It was beautiful. It was inspiring. It was sexy.

Catalina climaxed. Her moans of pleasure joined the sighing of the trees.

  4 Responses to “Fiction: The Orgy of Trees”

  1. What a beautiful story. Here’s the image to go with it.

  2. Thanks. I totally forgot about that picture but it goes well with it.

  3. “They comfort each other in the way that Life always finds comfort. They make love”

    Lovely, I really like this – especially since it’s cold & miserable here – made me rethink the weather…and I probably won’t look at trees the same again ;)

  4. Thanks. I was looking at a field of bare trees and I thought it was the most desolate thing I had seen in awhile. The story came to me an hour later.

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